Familiarity
by Song Of A Free Heart
Summary: A collection for my Mereta stories that aren't connected to other AUs.
1. Chapter 1

**Um... Yeeeeeaah... / Stories like this are why I call myself shipping trash. Would you believe I've never been kissed?**

Thinking was really hard when Eret's lips were on hers. When his fingers were in her hair, pulling just enough to make the nerves in her scalp sing. When she pressed against his chest until she could feel his heart beating through their ribs. Or maybe that was her heartbeat. She couldn't tell anymore. Didn't really care, either.

Blood rushed in her ears.

Time apart wasn't so bad if this was the kind of greeting she got when they were reunited...

Any nerve not currently being affected by the nerve was not worth having.

And, wow. She knew he was strong. But as one hand left her hair to grip her waist, closing the last bit of distance between them, she had a whole new understanding. Or maybe that was her brain going crazy, because pulling her closer didn't exactly take that much strength. She wasn't exactly fighting. But thoughts like that were distracting from the kiss, so she pushed them aside.

His lips stroked hers in a way that was at once inviting and demanding. Any part of her brain that wanted to complain about his dominance could take a hike, because she was thoroughly enjoying this. Some other kiss she would get her turn to take charge.

That thought she liked. More kissing.

She might have to do something about the fact she was getting light headed, though...

Stupid longs. Always demanding more oxygen. Couldn't they see she had more important things to do than breathe?

But in sheer defiance, her lungs forced her to pull back, sucking in air. As soon as her greedy lungs had been filled, she wanted to get Eret's lips back on hers.

Unfortunately, he pulled back. His hand didn't leave her waist, but the other disentangled from her hair to push her curls off her face.

They were both panting for air.

She met his brown eyes, and didn't even care that she was grinning like an idiot. She should probably say something. But her brain was still in kissing mode, so all she could think about was wanting his lips back on hers. (She wasn't picky with what he did with his hands.)

"Hi," he said, voice breathless as his chest continued to heave.

"Hey," she said.

"I missed you."

"I couldn't tell." Sarcasm didn't make it to her tone, since she was still gasping. But she was pretty sure he got the point.

At least, he did if the fact he leaned in to kiss her again was any indication.


	2. Pinned Down

**About a week ago, I was walking through Wal-Mart, thinking about Merida and Eret (because that's what I'm usually thinking about these days), when I was hit with the sudden urge to write them having a knock-down-drag-out-I-hate-your-freakin'-guts fight.**

 **I have never wanted to write a fight scene. Not between my original characters, even. And DEFINITELY not between one of my OTPs! But I couldn't shake the idea. I even know what would cause them to fight.**

 **So, with the encouragement of Iggyfing, I decided to go for it. I don't know what AU this is (they're obviously fighters of some kind in this story, but I didn't feel that it fits either** _ **Stormfly**_ **or** _ **Safe Haven**_ **). So I'm just gonna put this with "non-AU-specific stories", and you guys can make of it what you will.**

 **Also, after the kiss I posted yesterday, I think I've made it clear that Mereta is a very physical couple. How that looks when it comes to affection is obvious. But I feel the need to address what it looks like when they're not exactly happy with each other.**

 **For those of you who get part way through, and start to wonder… this story is a T rating. It barely even qualifies as that.** _ **That**_ **will not be happening.**

 **Now, after this ridiculously long author's note… Enjoy!**

 _Pinned Down_

Normally, Eret was really good at avoiding fights with Merida. It was a skill he was proud of, actually.

But sometimes – _sometimes_ – he got stupid. Or tired. Or both. He would say something he normally knew would set her off. Or sometimes he just misread the situation, and said something that might have been okay at other times, but not in that moment. (That hadn't happened in a while, thankfully.)

It wasn't really as complicated as it sounded. When he tried to explain it to people who asked how he handled being married to someone with a temper like Merida's, they seemed to think he walked around on eggshells. Which wasn't the case at all. Being around Merida, and talking to her, was easier for him than being around anyone else. Cliché as it was, he liked to believe they brought out the best in each other.

Sure, they would never be as adoring as Jack and Rapunzel, who seemed like a couple straight out of a fairytale. And they weren't the efficient team that Hiccup and Astrid were. But they had their own rhythm, and Eret didn't like the thought of life without her. He knew exactly what it would be like without her ("quieter" was the first word that came to mind), and he didn't want it. The whole reason he had married her was because he wanted to keep her around.

All respect to the others, who were obviously happy in their relationships. But Merida was he walking disaster, and he loved her for it.

Some days, though…

Some days were harder than others.

Like days when she slammed the door in his face.

Eret exhaled in frustration as he turned the knob and pushed it open, following her into the house before she could lock him out. Since she was already halfway to the stairs when he looked around, apparently she hadn't planned to lock it.

Some people might think that was a good sign. More than likely, though, it just meant Merida was too angry to think of the lock. Which was not a good sign by any stretch of the imagination.

"Merida."

She had ignored him long enough. She was going to explode, that was inevitable. He could almost picture steam coming off her red curls at this point. But the longer it built up, the worse it would be. He had learned that the hard way.

Just as he knew how to diffuse her temper before it could build, he had also learned how to push her to the breaking point before her anger could cause serious damage.

If he was honest, he wasn't being as careful as he should have been. He would realize that later.

But at the moment – and this was the hardest part about any fight with Merida – she wasn't the only one made. No matter how good he was with Merida's temper, it didn't do any good if he was too angry to use it properly. ("Properly" being the key word in that sentence.)

If he weren't so angry, he probably would have seen the problem there. Anger has a way of dulling intelligence, though.

When he reached the stairs, he took them two at a time to close the distance between them. He caught up with Merida on the landing. Before she could start up the next flight of stairs, he caught her wrist and turned her back to face him.

"Merida!"

Her expression was livid. And since she was on the second step, her eyes were level with his. (Her glare was impressive under any circumstance. But he couldn't deny that it was easier to take when he was almost a foot taller than his wife. When you fought someone as ferocious as Merida could be, you took whatever advantage you could get.)

He suddenly flashed back to a night a few months ago, when they had been going to bed after watching a movie, and he had been following her up the stairs. She had turned around suddenly on that same step, pulling him into a kiss.

They had been standing exactly where they stood now.

He really wished his brain hadn't decided to remind him of that right then.

His hold on her wrist slackened, and she yanked it free.

"Don't touch me!"

"Then don't ignore me!"

The small part of his mind that was still sensible, despite his anger, whispered that this _really_ wasn't the best way to handle it. He should back off. Get out of the house for a few hours so she could cool off. But he didn't pay attention to that thought. He probably should have. But he didn't.

"You shouldn't have stopped me!" she snapped. "I could have made it."

"No, you couldn't have," he said. "No one could have. You would have made the shot, but died in the process!"

"Who gave you the right to walk around telling me what I can do, and what I can't do?"

"You did!" he said. "When you _married me_. I'm pretty sure that gives me the right to stop you from doing something stupid!"

Bad move. Bad move. Really. Bad. Move. He knew that even as the words were coming out of his mouth. He was dead.

He was so dead.

The blood rushing to her face, turning her cheeks bright pink, just confirmed that.

"Just 'cause you're my husband doesn't make yoo the boss of my life!" Anger – rage now, actually – thickened her accent. Never good.

He tried to calm his own anger, which was rising in response to hers.

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Aye, it is!"

"No, it's not." Why couldn't she see that?"

"Then stop actin' like ya control me!"

"Stop trying you keep you alive, you mean?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air. "So now it's wrong to protect the woman I love? I wish I had known that before I married someone I actually cared about!"

Plans to try and deescalate the fight had vanished.

"That wasn't protectin' me!" Her voice rose a little further.

"Yes, it was!" This time, he let his voice rise to meet her. Well, as much as he could. Merida had an amazing set of lungs. "From your own stupidity!"

 _Dead,_ his practical mind told him, even as Merida's expression went from furious to murderous.

"Well, why did ya marry me is I'm so stupid?" She spat the words with more venom than she had ever turned on him. He had seen this kind of anger directed at others. But never at him.

And it hurt.

It hurt worse than any hit he had ever taken.

It wasn't the words – it was the fact she was capable of looking at him that way. That years of friendship, and shared jokes, and touches from casual to intimate, could be completely wiped away in her rage, and she could level him with the same glare she gave Pitch Black.

"That's not what I mean," he said, the volume of his voice falling below normal. His angers had pretty much drained away. Her glare had knocked the wind right out of him, and he didn't have the energy to maintain his anger.

Not when he knew that there was nothing he could do to fix this. Nothing he could say would change what he had said.

But he still had to try.

"Merida."

"Forget it."

She pushed past him, going back down the stairs. He didn't move to watch her. He couldn't.

But he heard the front door open, then slam shut behind her.

In his mind, he kept replaying the fight over and over. Every mistake – everything he had said wrong – glaring at him in livid red.

This wasn't their first fight, by any means. But it was definitely their worst.

And he couldn't help but wonder…

He didn't know how long he stood on the landing. A while, since the light was almost gone by the time he sighed, and started back up the stairs. As angry as Merida was, it would take longer than a few minutes, or hours, for her to cool off.

 _If she comes back at all,_ a part of his mind said, dismally.

Eret tried to brush that thought aside. But his mind flashed back to her glare, and he couldn't deny… it was possible that she wouldn't.

Everything he knew about Merida could be boiled down to two things – her center, as Jack would say. Above everything, she valued her freedom. Marriage had been a huge step for her. And she refused to tolerate anyone who treated her as though she were inferior.

In a matter of hours, he had threatened her freedom, and he had all but called her stupid. Neither of those had been his intent. But they had still happened.

Once upstairs, he stepped into a bedroom that was half his, half hers, and entirely theirs. Light green walls that they had painted together – then spent a week trying to get all the paint splatters out of their hair, after it turned into a paint war. And his favorite pair of jeans (which he had been dumb enough to wear while painting) were now forever marked with her green handprints. The bed, where they had spent countless hours in late night and early morning conversations, and more than a few pillow fights.

Muscle memory drove him through his normal routine – kicking off his boots, taking a shower, changing into clean clothes. As soon as that was done, though, the all situation seemed to hit him all over again when he was faced with the empty bed. Any energy he'd had left drained out of him.

With a sigh of defeat, he all but collapsed onto his side of the bed.

He wasn't sure if he fell asleep, or was just starting to drift off, when his phone went off. Exhaling in annoyance (couldn't he sulk in peace?), he didn't bother to look over as his hand searched the corner of his bedside table for his phone.

It was a text from Jack. And he almost knew what it said even before he opened it.

 _Figured you'd wanna know Merida's staying with us._

So she wasn't coming home that night. He wasn't surprised. Not really. And he was grateful that Jack had told him. And hadn't asked any questions.

He sent back a quick _thanks_.

#

Suddenly the bed was too big, there were too many blankets, and the house was too quiet. The sounds that came in from outside were just a bitter reminder that there was no one else to talk to. In the mornings, he made the usual cup and a half of coffee, but ended up pouring the rest down the sink. Because Merida wasn't there to put half a cup of coffee in her creamer. (He had once asked what the point was, but hadn't gotten an answer.)

In short, the next two days were torture. He sent multiple apology texts, but wasn't surprised when there was no response. When she was upset, she had a habit of ignoring her phone.

He thought about going to the Overland house to talk to her… but there was too much that could go wrong. If he showed up a moment before she was ready to see him, it could just make the situation worse.

At night, all he could do was lay there, replaying the fight, and a thousand other memories, over in his mind until exhaustion finally took pity on him.

He had always been a light sleeper, and his training had only made him more so.

A few months into their marriage, when Merida's restlessness had woken him up _yet again_ , he had wrapped his arms around her waist, all but pinning her down.

"You're lucky I love you, or I would never be able to sleep with you," he had muttered.

It had turned into a playful but short wrestling match. And it had just ended with him pinning her again.

Now, he woke up as soon as he heard the bedroom door open. His brain knew there wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the house, so he was even more affected by every out of place sound.

If he had been fully awake, he might have though before lashing out. But instinct took over.

Whoever it was seemed to be prepared, though. His first punch was parried easily. Before he could make another move, moonlight through the window illuminated a mane of red curls. In the split second he was stunned, she took advantage.

In a flash she had pushed him back down to the mattress and straddled his waist, pinning his arms with her knees.

"Thanks for the warm welcome," she muttered.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said.

His body acted on its own – trained by the fact that being pinned down usually wasn't good for his health. Bracing one foot on the mattress, he bucked his hips and twisted hard. The movement threw Merida's balance off, freeing his arms. It was fairly easy to throw her off.

She huffed in annoyance as he rolled onto her.

With his bulk and strength, wrestling between them would have been ridiculously mismatched… Except that Merida was fast. And she could make like a freaking fish.

As he moved, he caught her wrists. With the soft mattress behind her, it would be harder for her to escape, if he could just get her pinned down. "If" being the most important part of that plan.

Before he could fully get on top of her, Merida worked her wrist free and slid off the bed. Eret scowled as he rolled off the mattress and onto his feet. He lunged at her, but she side-stepped out of the way.

Eret knew Merida's fighting style better than she did. She he had planned for that. He shifted direction – stumbling a little since he was still trying to wake up fully. But he caught her shoulders with his arm. Pressing her back until she hit the wall.

"is this really how we're going to solve this?" he asked.

"Aye."

Okay, then. At least he knew what he was in for.

While Eret processed that, Merida managed to wriggle out from under his arm.

Like he said. She was a freakin' fish.

Before she could get away, he pressed his other hand to the wall to cage her in. But she ducked under his arm.

He turned on his heel to face her. Turning his back on her was the worst mistake he could made.

She had already been going for a headlock. He knocked her arm out of the way.

He had to get her down to the floor. It was the only chance he had to puin her down and end this. Merida knew that. So she was going to keep the fight _off_ the floor for as long as she could.

Which could be a while.

Still, he tried. Lunging again, he tried to drag her down.

She side stepped. And again she went to get an arm around his throat. He ducked under the attempt. When she stumbled, he tried to grab her waist. But she recovered too quickly. Regaining her balance, she stepped back.

Eret's movement took him down to his knees. Merida moved in to take advantage. But it was his turn to recover quickly. As she dove for him, he caught her waist in his arms as he stood up.

"Hey!"

Her feet were lifted off the floor.

Eret turned, planning to throw her back down on the mattress.

Merida started to wriggle again, hands braced on his shoulders. Before he could stop her, she slipped out of his hold, vaulting over his shoulder.

"Isn't this a little immature?" he asked.

She huffed, but didn't respond.

Eret sighed.

No way out of his.

They were evenly matched – his strength countered by her speed and agility. And they knew each other's fight styles, so it was almost impossible for one to get an advantage over the other. And while he could tell that Merida was still angry, he also knew they were both holding back.

That was actually reassuring. Even when she kept trying to get him in a headlock. He knew that if she wanted to hurt him, she could have taken him down with a few stinging punches.

A few of his punches could have put her down, too.

But neither of them had actually thrown a punch. Save for his initial attack. (Which didn't count.)

They moved around the room, attacking and countering. Merida kept a safe distance between herself and the bed, probably knowing he would try to pin her to it. It would be easier than getting her to the floor.

He didn't know what time she had woken him up. And he was too busy to look at the clock. But the burn in his muscles told him they had been at this for a while. Even before he saw that the sky outside the window had begun to brighten, filling the room with hazy pre-dawn light.

When he looked at Merida again, he realized that he could see her expression clearly. They were both breathing hard, a few feet apart as they tried to regroup. Her expression was determined. But when their eyes met, he recognized the pain he didn't see in her often.

She averted her eyes quickly.

They had both let this draw out so they could vent everything that they couldn't put into words.

Now, he decided, it was time to end it.

He lunged towards her again. When she sidestepped, he repeated the moved. Waiting for her to get close to the bed, or for her to be thrown off.

It took several minutes. And he almost missed the opportunity.

Merida stumbled.

Eret changed direction so fast, he almost lost control of his movements. But his shoulder knocked hard into her side, before she could recover from her momentary loss of balance.

While they were still falling, Eret caught one of her wrists. He had not worked this hard to get her onto the floor just to lose the advantage.

They hit the carpet.

Merida started to squirm away. But Eret tugged her wrist at the same time he rolled, pulling her under him.

Merida made a sound of frustration. Her entire body bucked and squirmed, trying to get away. He tried to settle his weight onto her, to keep her down. But he was distracted trying to catch her other hand.

Before he could, she moved at just the right angle.

It was bizarre to fell his center of balance shift as Merida flipped them over. A move she could normally make only if he let her.

Once more she straddled his waist. He kept a firm grip on her left hand, while she had his pinned to the carpeted floor.

"I'm not stupid!" she snapped.

There it was. He had known that was going to come up.

With a sigh of frustration, Eret tightened his hold on her wrist as he flipped them again. For what he hoped would be the last time that night.

"Get off me!"

"Not until you listen," he said.

She struggled for another moment, but this time he had gotten his entire body over hers, settling his weight enough to keep her down without crushing her. She didn't stop fully, but her attempts at wriggling reduced closer to fidgeting. It was as much as he could hope for at the moment.

"I didn't mean it," he said. Her aqua blue eyes were hard as she met his. "You know I didn't."

Beneath him, her body finally stilled.

"I'm sorry."

Finally, her expression softened.

"Will you forgive me?"

"Aye."

He lifted his weight off her, half expecting another attack (just for good measure). But the only move she made was to refill her lungs now that he wasn't constricting them.

He rose to his knees, then to his feet, before offering her a hand up.

She accepted. And that was how he knew he really had been forgiven.


	3. Car Crash

**This took way too long, and I am so sorry for that! But here it is!**

If Jack and Astrid hadn't held her back, Merida would have ripped the girl to pieces. She didn't care that the waiting room was already full of cops, not to mention doctors, nurses, and plenty other witnesses. And witnesses were normally enough to help reign in her temper.

But the other thing that reigned in her temper. And he wasn't there at that moment.

Because some sixteen year old girl had gotten into a car, drunk out of her brain and high on prescriptions. And while Eret was currently in surgery, the doctors less than hopefully on his chances, the girl responsible had barely more than a couple scratches on her face from the glass of her broken windshield. So Eret wasn't there to hold her back. And the girl's parents were already trying to usher her out, with every intention of covering this up so their daughter wouldn't have to face the consequences.

Merida had every intention of teaching this girl about consequences.

 _If I attack her, Eret will just stop me._

 _No, he won't. He's dying._

 _Because of her!_

Those thoughts succeeded each other in rapid succession – in roughly the time it took her to blink.

With a scream to put a banshee to shame, Merida lunged. Vaguely aware that she was shouting things in Scottish Gaelic that her mother would wash her mouth out for. (She had learned in middle school that she couldn't get in trouble for death threats and insults if the person they were aimed at didn't understand them. Now, anger produced an automatic switch to Gaelic.)

But that only made it worse. Even as she lunged, she remembered all the times she had started screaming at Eret, bent on a fight, only to have him roll his eyes and say "I have no idea what you're saying." That was usually enough to diffuse her temper.

Her vision blurred.

But before she could land a blow, or get her hands around the girl's neck, an arm caught her waist. Not Eret's. Too lanky to be Eret's.

"It's not worth it, Merida!" Jack said.

Actually, she was 100 percent sure it was.

When she continued to fight his hold, almost getting away, Astrid caught her wrists, which had still been swinging in the wide-eyed girl's direction.

"Hey!" Astrid said, forcing Merida to meet her eyes. "Hey. Eret needs you here! Getting arrested is not going to help anything."

Merida glared at the blonde, debating if she was mad enough to take a swing at her. Astrid had always been more Eret's friend than hers, and now that he wasn't here, Merida had to reevaluate just how much protection that gave her.

Before she could decide, the words made it to her brain.

Her shoulders deflated as her anger drained away. And Merida was left feeling as if someone had scraped her out like a jack o'lantern. All that was left was the pain gnawing at her frayed edges. And the tears that burned her eyes.

Her strength followed right after her anger, her entire body beginning to tremble. Jack's arm tightened around her waist just before her knees gave out, and she collapsed against his chest. The last person she had ever expected to collapse against.

Vaguely, she was aware that the girl's parents ushered her out quickly.

She had only cried in front of Eret a couple times – always reluctantly, because she couldn't hold it back. And he was her best friend. So crying while Jack held her up was completely strange. But she didn't have the will to fight back the salty tears that burned her eyes.

After a moment, Jack let go, and she was drawn into a different hug. Even with her eyes closed, she recognized Rapunzel's hold – as well as the Crystal Sunlight perfume her friend had been wearing since high school.

Her sobbing didn't last long – she wasn't the type to go on. After a few minutes, she was shifted into one of the waiting room chairs.

Hiccup finally came back from the mountain of paperwork he had taken care of. He took the seat across from her, Astrid taking the chair on his right. Merida sat with Jack and Rapunzel on either side. In a way that was strange, she was almost glad to be hedged in.

"He's still in surgery," Hiccup said, his voice gentle. Unlike the doctor, who had talked at her for a minute and thirty-seven seconds before he realized she didn't understand a word he said, he spoke in a way she could make sense of. Hiccup was good at that. "The laceration on his head reaches the skull, so it's been stapled. His right arm is broken in two places, but the breaks are clean."

His right arm. Eret was right handed, so that could be a problem. But she nodded. She understood broken bones.

"There's several cracked ribs, road rash, and cuts from the glass." Hiccup sighed, rubbing his forehead. "The biggest risks are his concussion, and the internal bleeding. If he makes it through tonight, he should be in the clear. But he'll be in surgery for a few more hours, so we won't know until then."

With a list of injuries that long, and serious, that felt like a really big "if".

Merida wanted to go home and crawl under the blankets of her bed. To curl up, and try to pretend this was all a bad dream. But she also knew she wouldn't be going anywhere.

"When can I see him?" she asked.

Hiccup hesitated, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry. Since you're not family, you can't see him until he's out of intensice care."

"Not family". Because she had Eret had only been friends since she was seven and he was nine. And it didn't matter that she knew him better than the people actually related to him.

She wanted to scream.

Wanted to do anything that would get her some release. Because pain, and fear, and anger, and a lot of things she should have said, were building up inside her. She felt as if they would rip her apart if she didn't get them out. She just didn't know how.

If she started screaming (again), or clawing the walls, or throwing things, they would probably kick her out. She refused to let them put any more space between her and Eret than they already had.

Absently she reached up to rub the Celtic knot tattoo that circled her left upper arm. Her first (and so far only) tattoo.

Eret had been there when she got it. Had jokingly offered to hold her hand, and laughed when she glared at him.

In contrast, when he had gotten his first tattoo (the dragon on the back of his left shoulder), she had been seventeen, so she'd been forced to wait outside. But she had sat at that stupid picnic table and waited for more than an hour and a half. Had driven him home, since that pain had made him spacey.

Her brain swirled with conversations they'd had. Or what she wished they'd had. Or wished they hadn't had.

Memories she hadn't thought about in years. Like snowball fights when they were kids. (All the times Jack had hit her in the back of the head, only for Eret to turn a barrage of snowballs on him. Their alliance had always gone without saying.) The first time he had refused to go to the pool with her if she didn't wear sunscreen. ("I don't wanted to spend two weeks listening to you whine about a sunburn.")

The way he teased her for years about how badly the first _Jurassic Park_ scared her. (She had been thirteen, for crying out loud.)

In turn, she never forgot his failed attempts at comeback lines, and loved to turn them back on him.

Little things. Like the stupid grin he got when his ego was inflated. The couple times she had been allowed to play with his hair. The way he sat against the headboard of his bed, while she lay across the end, talking about whatever was bugging him that week. Most of their life problems had been worked out in that position.

Playing soccer. Watching movies. Eating at the local burger place – stealing each other's fries, even when they had their own, because that's just what they did.

Eret had been a constant in her life almost as long as she could remember.

Now she was faced with the possibility of losing that constant. Of what her life would look like without him.

She really didn't like the view.

No more staring up at glow in the dark stars. Because Eret was enough of a dork that he had put glow stars in his apartment.

No more movie nights.

No more heated discussions over cheeseburgers and milkshakes.

No more arguments over her sunscreen use.

No more late night soccer on the high school's field. (Because it was the best field in town.)

No more inside jokes.

No more shared cable and Netflix bills for his apartment. (There was no reason for both of them to have cable. Especially since he had the better TV.)

It raised the question… What did she have without him?

Sure, she had her family. And other friends. And college. And archery.

But Eret was... Eret. _Her_ Eret. Her...

Her other hald.

She let out something between a laugh and a sob. Beside her, she felt Jack jolt, and wondered if he had started to drift off.

Was she really so stubborn that this was what it took to make her realize she loved him? That, for all he was in her life... she wanted him to be more?

It would be so typical for her to realize it, only to lose him.

She could be so _stupid_ some times.

She had thought it would be impossible to sleep. But as the hours went on, she found herself dozing off. Until finally, she was woken up by Hiccup shaking her shoulder gently.

"He's out of surgery," he said, little more than a whisper. "He's still unstable, but there's nothing more they can do."

Merida could only nod to say that she understood. Her throat sent a memo to her brain that it had no interest in forming words.

Fall all she knew, her best friend was dying in a hospital room. There was nothing she could do.

"You should go home," Hiccup said. "Get some rest."

She shook her head. "No. I'm not leavin' him."

"Merida, there's nothing you can do," Rapunzel said, touching her arm.

She shook her head again. "I- I can't. Not..." Not when Eret's apartment was right down the hall from hers. When her whole place was filled with reminders of him. "I can't."

"You need rest," Rapunzel said. "And you're not going to get it here."

"I don't care."

Hiccup and Rapunzel exchanged glances, probably trying to come up with a strategy to get her out of the hospital. Since Eret wasn't here to just throw her over his shoulder and carry her out.

To everyone's surprise, it was Jack who spoke.

"Has anyone checked on Skullcrusher?"

Merida stared over at Jack, trying to figure out why he was suddenly concerned with Eret's cat. "What?"

"Someone should probably check on him," Jack said. "Make sure he has food. You're the only one he likes."

Slowly, Merida nodded, getting up from the chair. Her muscles were stiff from sitting there for who-knows-how-many-hours.

"Come on," Rapunzel said, taking her head. "I'll drive you home."

The drive was only fifteen minutes, and too soon Merida found herself at Eret's door, flipping through her ring of keys to find his. She could hear Skullcrusher mewling on the other side of the door, making his displeasure known.

When she got the door open, the scarred tabby glared up at her with his one good eye, mewing his displeasure at being left alone for so long.

"Yeah, yeah," Merida muttered, sighing as she shut the door. "Do you care that he's in the hospital, or do you just care that you missed dinner?"

The cat traipsed over too his food and water bowls, making the answer to that question very clear. Merida almost glared at him as he meowed again. He glared right back.

She almost wanted to leave his bowls empty out of spite. But this was the whole reason she was here, so she filled both bowls before she went to collapsed on the couch, turning on the TV just to break the silence.

Laying back, she grabbed one of the blankets from the back of the couch and pulled it over herself. Somehow, it still smelled like his parent's house. She would never be able to figure that out. She couldn't figure out what the smell was, but she didn't dislike it.

When Skullcrusher had finished eating, he jumped up onto the couch with her, walking up the length of the cushions until he found the small space in front of her belly. He kneaded the blanket with his paws a few times, walking in a circle, before curling up against her.

"He's gonna be okay," Merida said, stroking the cat's back. "He has to be."


	4. Shirtless

**Loveallthatjazz on tumblr reblogged a list of headcanons for Mereta – one of which was clothes sharing. And, while I have absolutely no doubt that Merida would happily commandeer Eret's clothes (mainly tshirts, but she probably sleeps in a pair of his boxers that he doesn't know how she got), my brain tried to find any situation where Eret would end up in her clothes.**

 **Thus, this thing was born. Daydreamerssmile liked the headcanon, so I went ahead and wrote it.**

 **This is set in my Jackunzel story "Safe Haven".**

 _Shirtless_

Chicago was not Eret's favorite city. He had hoped that his side mission with Jack would keep him away from it all together, while the rest of the team was there. But he and Jack had finished up in California sooner than expected, unlike the rest of the team, who were running behind, and expected to be in Chicago for at least another week.

Hence why he was there.

He had missed the mission briefing (he had been at a different briefing), so he didn't even know what the job was yet. Or why the rest of the them had been scattered across three different hotels, but were now moving into a temporary base North had thrown together.

He took the elevator up to the eighteenth floor of the hotel where Merida was staying. As the elevator door opened, he double checked the room number she had sent him via text. He didn't really need to bother, though. When he looked up, he saw her waiting in the hallway.

"Hey," he greeted, grinning in spite of himself. They had been married less than nine months, and he decided a week and a half long separation was way too long.

"Ya took yer time," she said, but he could see that she was grinning too. Trying to fight it – but the expression was still there.

"The plane was late."

He wasn't entirely sure how it happened. But he blinked, and suddenly he was inside the hotelroom, the door slamming behind them.

Merida had a grip on the collar of his black tshirt, pulling him down until their lips crushed together. Once he got over the initial surprise, he had absolutely no problem with the situation. He pressed into the kiss, enjoying the benefits of being reunited.

Just as he expected the "welcome back" kiss to end, he felt her hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He pulled back. "Aren't we—" without thinking, he let her tug the shirt over his head "—busy?"

When he had gotten out of the taxi, Jack had been heading to their makeshift base. If he remembered correctly, he and Merida were supposed to meet the others there. He might remember wrong, though. His memory got a little faulty when Merida kissed him like that.

"We've got an hour," Merida said, already pulling his mouth back to her. And her fingers, calloused from her bowstring, brushed his lower stomach as they found the button of his jeans.

A shiver shot up his spine.

"Careful, Red – I might think you missed me." One hand teased the hem of her black tshirt, the other traced the Celtic knot tattooed on her left upper arm. Identical to the one on his own arm. Their line of work didn't allow them to wear wedding bands, so they had gotten the tattoos instead.

"I did," she admitted, grinning.

Cohesive thought was done when their lips met again.

#

Eret woke up to something loud and obnoxious. As he regained consciousness, he recognized it as the alarm on Merida' phone.

Merida groaned, lifting her head from his chest as she started to disentangle their limbs. "Wha' time is it?"

Grimacing against the harsh blue light of her screen, Eret turned off the alarm. "Uh... five-thirty p.m."

She jolted. "Five-thirty?"

She rolled away quickly – too quickly. The patches of skin stuck together with dried sweat stung as her sudden movement pulled them apart.

"We're late."

"Late?" He rolled off the hotel bed, scrambling to pick their clothes up off the floor. He founds his pants first, tugging them off. "You said we had time!"

"I didn't think you'd fall asleep!" Merida said, jumping to get her pants up over her hips. "You're the responsible one!"

Eret rolled his eyes as he grabbed their tshirts off the floor. He tossed one to her, then went to pull on the other.

The responsible one. Right. Because it was so easy to be responsible when his wife was tugging at his clothes. Merida must be completely oblivious to the affect she had on him.

The fabric of his tshirt strained as he pulled it over his shoulders. Which distracted him from all thoughts of what Merida did or did not realize. His shirts were usually fitted, but getting them on wasn't usually this hard. The seams around the shoulders dug under his arms. When he went to pull it on, the hem barely covered his navel.

He realized what was wrong just as Merida started laughing.

"Shut up," Eret muttered.

But she didn't seem to hear him, since she was almost doubled over with laughter. "You almost look good."

Rather than answer, Eret grabbed the back of the shirt's collar. But just that movement put too much strain on the cotton threads.

 _riiiiiiiiip_

Merida stopped laughing.

In frustration, Eret just tugged the shirt off. The move accompanied by more ripping.

"That was my shirt!"

"Don't you have another one?" He eyed the black tshirt she still held. _His_ shirt.

Noticing his gaze, she pulled his shirt on faster than he could blink. "I already sent my backpack to the base."

Eret sighed, shoving his feet back into his boots. If he hadn't been so distracted, he would have notived the room was void of Merida's things.

With a shrug, Merida pulled the door open.

There was nothing else he could do but follow her out. Into the hall.

"I can't believe you feel asleep," she said, as they ran down the hallway, back towards the elevator. "You shoulda told me you were tired."

"You expect me to think straight when you're taking my clothes odd?" he asked. "I'm human, Merida!"

The middle aged couple they ran past stared at them in something akin to horror, and Eret cringed.

"You killed my favorite shirt!"

"It was a black tshirt!" he said. "You couldn't have picked it out in a line up!"

She glared at him as they reached the elevator, and he could only shrug as she hit the down button.

The elevator doors opened a moment later. The woman inside glanced up, eyes wide, lingering on Eret's bare chest as he and Merida get in. He noticed, but didn't pay enough attention to be flattered.

"Next time, let's just wait until we're home," he said, hitting the button for the lobby. He didn't really like the idea. But he wasn't looking forward to walking into the GUARDIAN base (even a temporary one) without a shirt. Or having to explain to Hiccup why they were late.

Merida made a noncommittal sound. That "I-won't-dane-to-argue-with-you" sound he knew well.

The woman gave him another sidelong look, smiling when Eret accidentally met the look.

"Oh—" Merida growled in frustration, grabbing Eret's wrist and pulling him into another kiss. This one a pure marking of her territory.

The elevator doors opened, and the woman stepped out.

"Subtle."

"Shut up," she muttered.

They started across the lobby, all eyes seeming to gravitate to them.

After a few paces, Merida veered to their right. Eret stopped and watched, crossing his arms over his chest as Merida went into the hotel's gift shop. Though the plate glass windows he could see her grab a dark grey souvenir hoodie, Chicago emblazoned on the front in white letters. Rather than wait in line, she slapped a couple bills on the counter and came back out.

"Here," she said, tossing him the hoodie.

He shrugged into the thing, hoping she wouldn't see his grin. In a strange way... her jealousy was kind of cute.

But she didn't like the word "cute", so he kept that thought to himself as they ran outside, to the taxi that was already waiting at the curb.


	5. Let's Get Your In Bed

**Well, this took long enough. XP**

 **Set in my Jackunzel story "Safe Haven", but before the "Shirtless" drabble, so they're not married at this point.**

 _Let's Get You In Bed_

Eret saw the falter in her step. The way her hands trembled, though she was doing her best to hide it. And she was uncharacteristically quiet while North debriefed them. Except when he heard her take a shuddering breath, her eyes out of focus. They all were. But Merida was the one he was concerned with.

He had given up asking her what Pitch Black said or did that left her so shaken. She always refused to say a word. But, unlike Jack, Merida actually talked to Dr. Ombric. Since she spoke to the counselor, but refused to answer his question, made him suspect that whatever her Nightmare Gas induced hallucinations had something to do with him.

Maybe he was glad she wouldn't tell him. In theory, at least.

The debriefing ended. As usual, Jack was the first one out of his chair. Grabbing one strap of his backpack, he ran out of the conference room before anyone could make a move to stop him. Out of the room, off the base, and back to Rapunzel.

Hiccup shook his head as the sound of Jack's footsteps faded down the hall. "What are we going to do with him?"

North smiled wryly. "Jack will be fine. Just give him space."

Hiccup's nod was a little doubtful, but he didn't say anything.

After North left, with a concerned glance back from the doorway, the four of them remained silent for a few minutes. All lost in their own thoughts.

Eret had missed this brush with Black, since his part of the assignment had kept him in a different building. Several blocks over, away from the affects of the Nightmare gas. So, without the gas lingering in his own system, he could see the haunted expression in his friends' eyes.

Astrid was the first to recovering, reaching over to touch Hiccup's arm as she stood up. "Come on."

Hiccup nodded, offering Eret and Merida a half-hearted "see you later".

When they, and their footsteps, were gone, Eret stood up as well.

Merida's blue eyes were out of focus as she stared at the table's surface. Her posture, slumped in the chair, her shoulders hunched as if to protect herself – was out of character. Though Nightmare gas tended to have that affect.

He approached her seat carefully, not wanting to startle her with any sudden moves. She didn't even look over at him.

"Hey," he murmured, crouching down.

Her eyes flicked to him, then back to the tabletop.

It was an acknowledgement, at least.

"Let's head out," he said, keeping his voice quiet.

After a moment, she nodded, her body shifting as she sat up and prepared to stand. He rose to his feet as well, following her to the door. Her movements, usually filled with purpose and a powerful kind of grace, were tense. They barely made it to the door before he entire body trembled.

Eret stepped forward just in time to catch her before she fell to the floor. She didn't even bother trying to get back to her feet. The moment she registered his hold, he felt her every muscle relax, and she sagged against his chest.

Acting more on instinct than thought, Eret scooped her up bridal style. She didn't even put up an ounce of resistance when he cradled her to his chest. Which was almost as terrifying as anything Black could throw at him.

He carried her back to her room, typing in the key code without setting her down. The motion sensitive lights turns on with a click as soon as he stepped into the room.

He started to put her down. But rather than lower her feet to the floor, she tensed, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"I don't want to sleep."

"You didn't sleep on the jet," he said. "You need rest."

So did he. But that was an afterthought.

Merida didn't relax. If anything, her arms tightened around his neck. Her face pressed against his shoulder, and he could feel her exhales as a pool of warmth through his tshirt. Her trembling was subtle. But it was there.

"At least change out of your uniform," he suggested.

Once she started moving, routine would take over, and there would be comfort in familiarity. He just had to get her moving.

After a moment of consideration, her old slackened, and she let him set her down. Grabbing her pajamas odd her bed, she vanished into the bathroom.

The steady whirr of the bathroom fan did nothing to help him stay awake. But he had to get Merida settled before he—

"Will you stay?"

His head jerked up as he looked over at her. He had started to doze off on his feet, and her words hadn't registered in his brain. "What?"

Merida didn't look at him as she went back to brushing her teeth, leaning heavily on the doorframe. Exhaustion was setting in, and she probably wasn't able to support her own weight anymore.

"Stay," she said.

Eret nodded. "Sure."

She rinsed her mouth, shutting the bathroom light off as she came back into the bedroom. When she stumbled, he caught her again.

"Let's get you in bed," he said, ushering her over and pulling back the blankets so she could crawl under them.

Which she did. Well, she fell more than she crawled. And she didn't fight as he pulled the blankets back over her. No snarky comments about her being a grown adult, or perfectly capable. Actually, he would never suggest it… but he suspected she might have enjoyed it. Even just a little. Once she was tucked in, he got on the bed with her, laying on his side, with an arm draped lightly over her waist.

She curled closer to him, her eyes already closing.

"Don't leave." It was probably meant to be a command. But her voice was more sleepy than demanding.

"I won't."

He knew why she was here. If nightmares woke her up in the middle of the night, she didn't want to be alone. It was why he kept his arm over her – to make sure, even in her sleep, she would be subconciously aware that he was still there. Still with her.

Even if that weren't the case, and he had thought of leaving for his own room once she was alseep… he didn't have the energy. He would probably pass out as soon as she did. And he didn't want to leave her alone. Not when she was like this – all but admitting that she needed what little help he could offer.

"Hmm. G'night."

"Night."

He felt her shift into sleep almost immediately. And with an exhale, he let himself follow.


	6. Kiss In The Rain

**This is an AU I've been playing with a bit, and I kind of wish this wasn't the first drabble I was posting for it… but oh well. Their initial meeting is coming.**

 **It causes me physical pain to write the word "lass"… It's just one of those words that makes me writhe. But I'll get used to it.**

 _Scottish Rain_

The Scottish Highlands were nothing like the tundra where Eret had grown up. Rolling hills covered in green grass, natural formations of stone that jutted out of the ground. Thin forests that exploded with color as summer turned to autumn. Placid lakes that reflected the hills, their color changing from blue to steely grey with the shifting mood of the sky.

Eret wasn't exactly the type to sit and admire the landscape. But even he could appreciate the wild beauty of the place.

And Merida…

She laughed as the rain started to fall around them, never slowing as they ran down the hillside. Her hair flew behind her as her legs ate up the ground. Completely at home and in her element, every bit as wild and beautiful as her surroundings.

Blood pounded in his ears as he followed her. He was unfamiliar with the terrain, so he moved with more caution. But still with more abandon than he had allowed himself since… since he couldn't remember when.

He couldn't remember the last time he had run just to run. Not to catch a dragon, or get out of a dangerous situation. Just to move.

Just like he couldn't remember the last time he had been happy.

Until he met the wild Scottish lass a few feet ahead of him.

They reached the bottom of the hill, splashing through a shallow creek before they stumbled to a stop. Eret was running on adrenaline, not thinking as he wrapped an arm around her waist, Lifting her off her feet with the last of his momentum.

When he did realize what he was doing, he expected her to protest, or try to push him off.

Instead, her arms wrapped around his neck. Holding onto him. He hadn't been hugged since he was a child, so it was strange… but he didn't want it to end. It was definitely something he could get used to.

"Do you have to go?" she asked in a whisper, her breath warm on his ear.

He nodded, burying his face in her shoulder. "I've already stayed too long."

Drago was not a patient man by any stretch of the imagination. Eret would have days to get back up north, and hope he trapped enough dragons on the way to appease him. Saying that he had been injured, and stranded in the Highlands, would only buy him so much mercy.

"I don't want you to go."

Coming from Merida, those simple words meant a lot. So he dared to ask the question he had told himself he wouldn't ask.

"Will you wait for me?"

It didn't seem like something he was allowed to ask. That anyone was allowed to ask. By nature, Merida was as wild as the will-o'-the-wisps she had told him about. Her heart wasn't something that could be easily won. But maybe there was a chance.

Merida leaned her head back to meet his eyes. "Will you come back?"

"If you'll wait."

"You promise?"

"On my honor."

The rain around them continued to fall harder, weighing down her hair, running down both their faces. It seemed to hold the rest of the word at bay – a world he wanted to forget about.

He saw her hesitate, one of her hands coming to touch his jaw. It was strange to see her unsure, when moments before she had been running down the hill without any sign of concern.

Neither of them dared to breathe – Eret didn't dare to move – letting her close the space between them in her own time. The brush of her lips against his was gentle, cautious, but curious, all at once. She started to pull away after that brush… but paused, as if thinking for a moment, before finding his lips again.

His arms tightened around her waist as he tilted his head, responding to her kiss with equal care.

The movements were awkward as they tried to find their place. A rhythm.

But at the same time, it was the most natural thing.

Only because it was Merida.

After a lingering moment – enough to leave him at once content and wanting – she pulled back.

"Don't take too long."


	7. Types & Adoration

**A friend and I were discussing our headcanon that Eret would regard Rapunzel as some kind of minor saint, and subconsciously set himself up as her honor guard. Kind of the way the thugs in the Snuggly Duckling react to her, but a bit more intense because they become friends. And because he's friends Jack. This popped into my head, and I couldn't resist.**

 **Modern AU**

 _Types & Adoration_

Eret wasn't sure what woke him up. Though he was sure that it wasn't morning. And that there was no reason for Merida's bedside light to be on. Not this late. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, squinting against the light to find her sitting with her back against the headboard.

"What are you doing?"

"Couldn't sleep," she said, not looking up from the book that lay open on her lap.

That explained absolutely… nothing. Eyes adjusting to the light, Eret looked at the clock on her table.

2 am

Of course. Merida always seemed to do existential thinking at two in the morning. And one look at her expression, even in his tired state, he could tell that he current train of thought was bothering her.

Sitting up, he looked at the book on Merida's lap.

It took him a moment to register that he was looking at a photo of himself and Rapunzel. A candid shot Hiccup had taken when they had all gone to the boardwalk last summer. Set in the scrapbook Rapunzel had given them for Christmas about a month ago.

The picture had been taken while Jack and Merida were competing at a sharp shooting game. The picture of the two yelling at each other was on the facing page. Taken just as Merida was threatening to introduce Jack's face to her fist if he didn't shut his mouth. Eret and Rapunzel, used to their antics, had started talking while they waited out the storm. Close enough that Eret could break up a fight is necessary, but off to the side and away from the brunt of it.

He stared at the picture, trying to figure out why Merida was so fixated on it. It couldn't be anything good…

"You adore her," Merida said.

Nope. Nothing good.

Eret frowned. Trying to figure out when Merida had started using words like "adore". It was the kind of bookish word he expected from Hiccup, or Rapunzel. Maybe Jack, since his feelings for Rapunzel were textbook adoration, if Eret understood the meaning of the word at all.

"Jack adores her. I admire her."

"You idolize her."

She was probably right.

Though he didn't really see anything wrong with that. As long as he had known Rapunzel, he had admired her just for her innate goodness. The way she always saw the best in people even when they didn't see it themselves (and Eret was one of those people), and the way she made people want to be better just by standing in the same room. Not to mention she was creative, bubbly, and had a way with people that you had to see to believe. All on top of her own troubled past, which you would never begin to guess if she didn't let you get close enough to learn about it.

That, and her occasional naivete, made people want to protect her. And Eret, the most capable in their group of offering physical protection, felt almost honor bound to do so.

"You treat her the way I treat Emma," Jack has said once, referring to his younger sister.

And Eret guessed his friend had a point.

Merida closed the scrapbook, setting it on her bedside table.

"If you and I hadn't gotten together—"

"Don't even go there," he said. Though he knew Merida too well to think that would put an end to this conversation.

"Would you have?"

"She has Jack," he reminded.

"If he and I had gotten together," she countered.

"You would rather die," Eret reminded, with complete certainty.

Merida rolled her eyes, shifting so she lay on her stomach. The movement so animated she wrinkled the sheets, and pulled the blankets towards her.

"If I didn't exist."

His life would have been very, _very_ different if she had never been a part of it.

"If Jack didn't exist," she added, before he could try that defense again. "It's a hypothetic question."

Eret sighed.

"No," he said, as he lay back down. Tugging some of the blankets back from her side of the bed. "She's not my type."

"What do you mean: not your type?" she asked, sounding honestly shocked. As if the thought were incomprehensible.

"She's not."

"How can she not be your type? She's blonde, and bubbly, and skinny! I thought that was every guy's type."

"She's too much of a romantic," Eret said. "I don't have that in me."

"That's true," Merida commented. No doubt considering the fact that their idea of a romantic evening was eating Chinese takeout while they watched TV.

"So what is your type?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him with something of a challenge in her blue eyes.

Well, that was easy.

"Temperamental Scottish lasses with red hair who keep my eyes interesting," he said, with a smirk.

"Nice save," she said, rolling her eyes. Though she didn't protest the light touch on her shoulder that prompted her to roll onto her back, while he shifted to brace himself above her.

"I like blue eyes, too," he said. "That's important."

She hummed, reaching up to twine her fingers in his hair. And he knew she was satisfied on this topic as she used her hold to guide his head down to hers. Their lips met briefly… then again a little longer.

He started to pull back. "Get some sleep," he murmured.

Merida hummed again, her arm sliding around his shoulders to keep him close. "Not yet."

Any interest he'd had in going back to sleep were put on hold, since the only way to respond to that proposition was to agree.

She was his type, after all.


End file.
